


Generation Zero

by planningconquest



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: malcontents, space millennials, study of younger people
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-21
Updated: 2017-06-21
Packaged: 2018-11-17 01:44:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11265372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/planningconquest/pseuds/planningconquest
Summary: Firmus Piett wondered why his fellow officers seem to hate the new academy graduates. His curiosity led him to more questions than answers.





	Generation Zero

“These new Academy cadets are all lazy!” Admiral Ozzel’s proclamation in the Lady Ex’s officers club was met with a few curious stares from fellow officers, a frown by his captain, a nod in agreement from the general and ugly glares from the servers. “Look at those brats! A whole generation of children, growing up soft and spoiled. They’ve got no skills!” 

Captain Piett, a long suffering victim of Ozzel’s rants, hadn’t heard this one before. He perked up slowly and the officers of the club all waited for the portly admiral to continue. 

“How so?” Asked a secondary desk officer and Ozzel slugged back the last of his drink. 

“Look, ever since the war ended we’ve got a whole new generation of new cadets. All growing up after the war.” Piett, who had come to majority during the war, waited for further explanation. “And if you look at these cadets, their entrance scores are down, their skills are down, they’re basically useless.” 

“I’d have to agree.” General Veers said, he looked annoyed at the prospect of agreeing with anything Ozzel said but he continued. “New stormtroopers entering the Corps, they aren’t doing it out of patriotism or loyalty. I’ve seen so many disturbing reports of new cadets joining for simple reasons. Silly reasons if you ask me.” 

“Yes,” Ozzel slapped the table and Piett watched, “Look, these cadets that the academies are churning out are brats, entitled brats. They all want their own ship one day, their own command. They except these things! Command isn’t given, its earned!” Piett thought that was a little rich considering Ozzel was here only because of his political connections. “They want and want and want.” 

“Entitled,” Veers agreed solemnly and nodded to Piett, “eh, Firmus. What have you noticed about the recent academy graduates?”

A dozen pairs of eyes turned to him, most of them were Ozzels tools but there were a few other mild-mannered commanders mixed in as well. He wasn’t sure how their conversation had shifted from fashion to insulting the younger generations of humans. 

“Recent graduates?” He asked and Veer nodded. “Truthfully, I have not been looking.” 

“Well,” Ozzel snorted, “when you do look, Captain, you’ll find them all pathetic.” Firmus glanced from the glass in his hand to the waiter standing behind the packed table. The young man’s face was pinched with annoyance that he seemed to be having supreme difficulty smoothing away. “Look, my new aides from the academy, they can’t get the filing system right! It’s a filing system, the easiest thing on the ship to manage! I don’t have time to answer their questions! I’ve got a whole ship to run!” 

“Another problem,” Veers added, looking suddenly frustrated, “new cadets already handle blasters. Blasters are illegal on so many planets, they’re probably criminals. They handle blasters like they were smugglers.” 

“Certainly that would cut down on so much of the training costs.” Piett offered. At this, Veers looked even more frustrated. 

“They are holding them wrong! Holding them like…Corellian’s! And those are the ones that even join.” 

Firmus had seen that the number of applicants to the academies had gone down. It was a topic of discussion among himself and the other captains of the ships. Enlistment hadn’t dwindled enough for it to be a cause of concern but Firmus was keeping an eye on it. 

“Hmph, and that doesn’t even cover how disrespectful they are to their superiors.” Ozzel took another pull of his drink. “They keep trying to correct them! Hmph, can you believe that?” 

Firmus did find it hard to believe. He didn’t think academy standards and training had slipped so much that all their graduates were so terrible. Perhaps, he would have to pay attention to the recent academy graduates. 

“Excuse me, sirs.” He nodded to the men who had begun grumbling even more about recent graduates, “I must report on shift.” Ozzel, who was supposed to be taking this shift, shrugged and waved him off. Firmus Piett sighed to himself and left. 

#$#

In reality, the conversation should have left him. He should have ignored the grumblings of the General and the Admiral but he didn’t. The two men despised on another and if they agreed on something then surely there had to be a grain of truth to it. 

Firmus found himself watching the few academy students that were stationed abroad the Executor out of mere curiosity. Wondering if they might be correct. 

The first cadet he noticed, here on his first ship rotation, was a swarthy cadet named Tomoo. He was a tall, too tall for a normal uniform. His face was pinched and his eyes were sunken back into his skull. Dark bags circled under his eyes and his left hand was forever fiddling with something. He was about 23, but seemed to Peitt like he could be older. The drawn features often gave the impression he was scowling. He was stationed on the bridge, running messages from station to station and otherwise doing very little in the way of being helpful. 

Having a cadet running messages between the stations was wasteful and useless. It was also pointless. After four days of having actually noticed the lad, Piett was ready to have him kicked off the bridge. It wasn’t because of the cadet’s work. 

No, the cadet worked well and near flawlessly. 

It was the manner in which the station masters were using him. For frivolous things they could have and should have managed on their own. Using him to pick up their slack. This sort of thing could entice them to become lazy. 

“Cadet Dee,” the cadet and the station master he was speaking to both turned to him. Firmus stared only at the boy, “come with me.” He ordered and he stepped into a nearby conference room. 

“Sir?” Tomoo saluted and looked decidedly bland. Firmus could not detect even the slightest hint of concern or fear off him. Furthermore, he didn’t think the boy even cared. 

“Cadet Dee, as commendable as your work with the station master is, there is no great need for them.” Firmus watched the boy drop his arm and continue to stare blankly ahead. A few years ago a statement like that would have made the cadet nearly faint with fear or with embarrassment. Tomoo didn’t even twitch. 

“What would you have me do, sir?” The captain’s breath caught. If it had been Ozzel, he was sure the boy would have been severely punished or at least kicked off the ship. That sort of question could have been interpreted as insolent, mocking even. Except that, once he’d pushed down his initial flare of anger, he realized it was only a question. 

Where they even teaching polite attitude at the academy anymore? 

“You studied logistics, did you not?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“There are many unclassified documents and reports that need filing.” Firmus said. To anyone else it should have been a signal that they were not liked or needed. A new cadet was always desperate to prove themselves. Tomoo just nodded. “My office,” he conceded the truth and the cadet nodded again. “I will send word to my aide that you will be arriving shortly and that your work is to be prepared for you. He will explain how it is done when you arrive.” 

“Yes, sir.” Piett watched him for a flicker of emotion but the pale eyes were almost dead. 

“Dismissed.” Cadet Tomoo saluted one last time and vanished through the conference room door. Piett, annoyed and somewhat confused, returned to the bridge. The station master’s disappointment at the banishment of their errand boy, was obvious. He sent them a glare and directed the ship to prepare for hyperspace. 

His concern was mounting through, Tomoo had not shown he’d even cared. There was no obvious trace of sentiment in his eyes or his face. Almost apathetic to the opportunity given to him. Working in the Captain’s office as such a young cadet would be seen as auspicious. It would seem like a promotion to many. 

Cadet Dee hadn’t whined or complained, certainly not in front of superior office. He’d accepted his orders so easily it unsettled him. 

#$#$#$#

It was often observed that the cadets on their first or second rotation were used for grunt work. For scummy jobs and tedious work that no one else wanted. 

In Admiral Ozzel’s office this was plainly clear. He’d chosen a cadet for her most obvious qualities. 

Cadet Mico was a beautiful young woman. Her eyes were bright and focused, here hair carefully groomed to perfection, her nails were flawless. The minimal amount of make-up she was allowed to wear highlighted her best features. She was wore no jewelry and no accessories but Firmus got the impression she didn’t need them to command attention. 

Despite her record indicating she was also a logistic major, Admiral Ozzel had her serving caf and handing him files and datapads. 

Piett got the impression she’d be just about anywhere than in the same space as Admiral Ozzel. 

#$#$3

“It’s the only thing their good for.” Firmus looked up from the file he was trying to read and focused on the Admiral. “Come on, who expects some little cadet to be any good at anything right off the bat? Eh? I know Mico is just too silly headed for that.” 

“Make up,” Veer was reluctant to speak to him but still needed someone to grumble along with. “what does make up have to do with it?” 

“Any girl who wears make up like that has to be an idiot!” Ozzel slapped his hand on the table. The other naval officers agree among themselves. “Look, like some socialite in the court. All look and no brains.” Firmus glanced around to see if Mico was in ear shot. The girl wasn’t but that didn’t mean that one of the other cadets wasn’t. The same server from the last time the conversation had turned to lambasting the academy graduates. “So I gave her the job she’s best for, standing around and looking pretty. Even in the uniform.” 

“Hmph, I’m supposed to be attaching one of the cadets to my retinue,” Veers sighed, “I don’t want a single one, Zev tells me that his fellow graduates were simply too foolish.” 

“Have you gone over the roster?” Firmus asked, he joined the conversation finally surprising both men. “I chose Cadet Dee to sort and file much of the backlog in my office. He has proven to be very capable.” 

“What good is the roster for?” Veers asked, “you’ve seen the latest trends these kids are getting into. No longer shopping, not buying ships or homes. Hmph, a decrease in morals, that’s what it is.” 

Firmus struggled with his temper. That was off basis and it sounded biased. “General,” he continued with just enough iron that the man took noticed, “the roster of first rotation cadets is useful in determining where they are most fit to be place. Cadet Dee has a background in logistics thus making him a valuable addition to my own office.” Firmus sighed as Veers snorted. 

“Of course not, I’m not going to waste my time.” This was a waste of time. 

$%$%$

His research into the allegations made by the admiral and the generals did show up a number of curious reports. It seemed that the poor opinions that they had for the younger cadets was not only in the Empire. The attitude was spread across the mid-rim and the Core. Heads of industry to bankers to the politicians all had something to say. 

Veers and Ozzel were not outliers in the opinion that the new generation of human were stupid, lazy, and vaguely pathetic. Their insults were echoed across the galaxy, circulated in the papers and networks. The sentiment was everywhere. 

“Sir?” He glanced from his console to Lt. Vanka, the man was frowning with some concern.  
“Are you alright?”

“I am confused,” Firmus admitted, “I recently came across a previously unnoticed…train of thought and my research into the origin of it has left me a little alarmed.” Vanka shifted in his seat. 

“Sir?” 

Firmus set his reading glasses down and turned fully to the younger man. “I heard it first from the Admiral,” Vanka’s face twisted into distaste, “and then from General Veers.” 

“Ah?”

“They are both under the impression that the recent generation has…fallen. They are, well, the sentiment is repeated outside the military too.” 

“That they are lazy and spoiled?” 

“You’ve heard it?” Vanka nodded. 

“I, it is a very popular train of thought on my home world right now. Noticeably among the older residents of my world.” 

“I did notice the trend it was among older citizens.” Firmus frowned, “I cannot understand this nor fathom why this is so acceptable a thought. Some of the article are downright cruel and certainly I have heard many of the insults in person on students and cadets that don’t deserve them.” 

“Sir?” Vanaka frowned.

“I noticed,” Firmus said, “during my research that it applies to those who reached majority before the war and those who reached majority during it.” 

“Well, yes.” Vanka shuffled awkwardly, “If I may?” 

“Go ahead.” Firmus stared as Vanka took a careful breath. 

“After the war ended and the Separatist routed, we were told the sinking economy would be a simple fix People wouldy but things and create a perfect galaxy through their purchases and then families. It worked, for a while. There was a lot of material on how to create the perfect imperial home and children but.” Vanka glanced from side to side, “it only happened in a few places and only in places like the Imperial Center. It didn’t happen anywhere else. The economy tanked after the war in a lot of places and those places, as much as they want to, cannot imitate the Core very well. The older citizens who wanted to imitate the core clashed with the younger citizens that came to majority during the decline who didn’t even bother.” 

“Interesting.” Firmus mulled the thought over in his head. “That certainly explains why so many corporations seem to have nothing but distastes for these young people.” 

“Yes, sir.”

“Where did you learn all of this, Vanka?”

Vanka seemed nervous, “I am one of these citizens, you may have noticed they all of Generation zero. It encompasses a much larger age gap than most people suspect.” 

“I hadn’t noticed,” Firmus said, “I hadn’t noticed any of this until a few months ago. It is a little concerning.” 

“Well, outer rim sensibilities on frugality and home-made materials are making a swing back into the mid rim and in the Core.”

“Admiral Ozzel complained the homes and ships were not selling as well.”

“No, sir. Ships are very expensive and so are homes. Too expensive for of the generation zeroes.” 

“And the dip in military enlistment?” 

“Many lost home and families to war, they have no desire to be a part of it. I joined but I would have much rather have stayed home to tend to my mother’s shop. My brother did,” Vanka smiled a bit self-deprecating, “I am jealous of him.” 

“Then why would so many be so hostile?” Firmus wondered, as someone from a backwater world all of the frugality that the students were being mocked for made perfect sense. Don’t go into business with shady banks. Don’t trust doctors that haven’t taken the oath. Don’t spend credits you don’t have. Live with several friends to make ends meet. If you could make it yourself then do so. He turned from his musing when Vanka shifted restlessly. “You have a thought?”

“The admiral and the general both come from places of relative privilege, sir. It is possible that they would see a deviation from the ‘norm’ to be highly unusual and also a testament to the…failing morality of the younger generation.” 

“I did hear that,” Firmus admitted. “I must admit, this is entirely confusing. I have seen very little evidence that the younger cadets are lazy and stupid. Cadet Tomoo is highly intelligent and I am sure that if Cadet Mico was given the chance she would prove invaluable.”

“Yes, sir.” Captain Piett considered what the man had told him.

“Thank you, Vanka. I am sure you have other duties to attend to.” The man left and before the Captain could return to his musing he heard voices approach. 

Cadet Tomoo. He grimaced as he ducked from his own office and pushed himself into the improbably small corner between a shelf and a wall. The alcove was a design flaw in his office and he’d been wanting to have it fixed. For now, through, it gave him the chance to hide. 

He graciously ignored the fact that he was hiding like a common criminal in his own office and pricked his ears up to eavesdrop on the cadet. 

Tomoo was being trailed by an enormously tall girl in engineering overalls. He caught of glimpse of the girl before her shadow blocked his vision. The boy must be retuning for a file or his code cylinder. Piett held very still. 

“You’re crazy if you’re not interested.” The girl said, “look! We’re the only ones who don’t know!” 

“I’m not really interested in knowing.” Tomoo actually sounded alive, a vast difference from the last few times Firmus had spoken to him. 

“But what if we could find it? What if we could build a ship and find it? Hmm? A ship to take us out there! A ship into the black! One to explore everything!” 

“That’s what destroyers are for.” Tomoo said and the girl snorted.

“You know that’s not what I’m talking about! Tomoo, we’re literally the only sentient species that doesn’t know where we’re from! Our homeworld! The primordial soup that we crawled out of! Where was it? Why happened? What kind of gods did we have? Was there ware there? Did we invent it? Did we find out elsewhere? How did we get to the stars? What kind of world was it? Did we have a lot of different civilization or was it all globalized? Come on, you aren’t even a little curious?” 

“Not really.” Tomoo sounded happy to hear his friend talk though. Firmus stayed wedged in his hiding place, wondering what he might hear. 

“But I am! Look! What kind of things did human think before we were galactic? What kind of society did we have? What sort of world could be build? What did we eat? Where there?” 

“Etta.” 

“But I’m curious? I’ve got all these questions! We need to find some answers! We could go out, we could go out and explore. Map the unknown regions! We could build something that would last forever, the legacy of exploration! All of it!” Her sentiment was infectious, her excitement bleeding into the room. “Don’t’ you want to go explore? Don’t you want to go see what’s out there? Why can’t we go? Eh? What’s stopping us?” 

“Lack of interest?” Tomoo said, there was a moment as somethings rattled around his office. Firmus wondered if the exercise to learn a little of what the younger students were thinking was going to go anywhere. 

“But we can fix that! We can fix that easy peasy! We could. You know we could! Why? Why aren’t we exploring anymore? I know the galaxy is such a huge place but the universe is even bigger! Come on, I can fix a warship’s engine with no problem but why build a weapon when we could be exploring?” 

“Etta.” Tomoo sighed good naturedly. 

“We could be so much better than this,” Firmus had the feeling she wasn’t discussing herself or even Tomoo. He leaned against the shelf, almost sighing out loud, “we could be so much better.”

 

“Come on, Etta. I don’t want to be here when the captain gets back.” 

“Urh, I don’t know why you got the nicest officer on the ship. Mico is wanting to kill Ozzel and I’d be happy to space my supervisor. You got the best guy on the ship.” From his undignified hiding place, Piett blushed. “Wanna trade?”

“Can you imagine, a fellow that short trying to do what you do? You’d break him in a day.” 

“No, I’d be very nice.”

“If you say so, but we’d better hurry if we’re going to keep Mico from ramming her mascara rod down the admiral’s throat. Did you hear what he said about her make up?”

“I did, the scandal.” 

“Oh boy, it’s going to be the day on the ship when he figures out that the make-up isn’t gluing her eyes shut or her ears shut. I almost feel bad for him.” 

“If the master and commander doesn’t get to him first.” 

“Too bad Nello doesn’t work on the bridge, she’d probably tick him off just to see what happened up close. She’d got not sense of self-preservation. I’m kinda curious too and intrigued. Like, death is just so close and people are all so scared. I mean, if I get killed by the master and commander then my debts just vanish. I don’t have any family members to pass it onto. It could be really easy. Just…one slip up.” There was a disturbing amount of genuine consideration in her voice. 

“Nope, come on. He might be back soon and I don’t think he wants to hear how…dark the conversations turn. You’ll have plenty of time to be cynical later.” 

They left in a rush of fabric and conversation that was taking a turn for darker. Firmus wondered if anyone had thought to ask if the newer cadets if they were alright. 

How much could they blame on this...generation zero before the effects began to snap back with painful consequences?

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this recovering from appendicitis. May not be super coherent. Wondered what happened if the generations in the GFFA thought like ours.


End file.
